Watch the Rust
by SparkKnight2
Summary: After stabbing ones brother and being labeled as insane, Eiríkur Steilsson is sent to prison. After years of solitude he is confronted with a cell mate. Can this unknown man bring Eiríkur back to reality? Will Eiríkur trust him with his most sacred secrete? Rated for violence, angst, depression and later on mentioning of rape and suicide. Not yoai!
1. Twisted Mind

A pale figure stood, looking out the foggy, bared window. The air inside was moist and cold with a faint sent of artificial strawberries, probably the sent of the cleaner used on the small, confined space. The sounds of buzzing bells and murderous voices murmuring and yelling flooded the halls. It was a small place, like a closet. To one corner there was a bunk-bed, gray and rusty. The fairly small window had a thick white certain and bars restrained from the inside. The walls and floor were a cold concrete that had a slight tint of moss green; also the floor slightly sloped to the center, where a drain was. There was also a metal, sink/toilet combo, which was rather small and had a cracked mirror above. Lastly there was a door, well more like a gate at one end of the confined space, it was barred with clear white bars and the door was definitely locked, by now you should know that this was a jail cell.

Eiríkur Steilsson, but around here he was only known as 473110.A single boy who occupied this room and had been there for a decent amount of time, the sentence he served was older then he was at the age, for he was only 15 when he came. Why did he serve a sentence for 21 years then? Well, he murdered his brother by stabbing him in the chest 17 times and now has been seen as insane. For now he most certainly was, being confide most of his life in solitude drove his mind off a cliff. But now he was 18 and had 18 years to go, but he never thought about leaving, it would seem he didn't think what he would do when he was 36. His appearance was not of a normal teenager for he had light, almost white, hair, was fairly thin, a little too much so to be healthy. Also he had large lavender eyes, ghostly pale skin that was riddled with acne on his face and back, had slightly long arms and was short for his age. He was a peculiar boy to say the least.

He stood by the chilled window and drew with his finger an eye. It was large, taking up a great deal of the window, but beautiful. He gave a faint smile, enjoying when the window would fog up and he could play with it. It was dark out and he could feel his lazy eyes and mind wonder, he did not sleep for two days, and when he did his mind was riddled with nightmares and only slept for an hour or so. This problem just arose, well two days ago. No one is sure what triggered such a thing all he did that day was wander around the grounds for an hour and spoke to his councillor. Despite all of these things though he walked over to the rock-hard bed, that seemed normal now, and laid on his stomach. He attempted to sleep though his frantic thoughts and the aggrieved voices, and after some time his mind went to sleep.

His sleep was fine for a wile, but somewhere along the way he started thrashing and sweating in his sleep, not soon after his eyes shot open. He had dreamed the same dream again; he never told anyone what these dreadful dreams were due to being afraid for what seemed, to most, like no reason. He would stand there, living though the event that has haunted him, the event that broke a fuse in his mind and caused him to murder his elder brother, who loved him. He shivered in what felt like coldness, but he was sweating. His breathing was irregular, but soon became calm. He snorted "Fudge you dream, fudge you memories. Go and die..." He whispered to himself, wishing he could just get some sleep, but no matter how long he told himself that it was okay he couldn't fall back to sleep. He just started dozing off when the sky turned a mystical blue, foreshadowing of the sun's rise.

He only slept for an hour after that, but then was waken by the light that poured in the gray, double-paned window. The morning bird was playing their song and could be herd from his room. He groaned and slowly sat up. "Crap to you sun." He whispered slowly. Then his mind seemed to wonder into boredom, not that there was overly much to do, but Eiríkur was a resourceful person. He would play with his clothing and the sheet, making a fort and playing within himself. He grabbed hold of his orange uniform that was left on the floor and moved his long, slender arm down the suit until it came to a pocket, one of two on his uniform. He opened the square pocket and took out a pencil, he took it form his councillor. He would always steal one or two while he could, he loved drawing on walls, but every time the cell was cleaned the drawings would disappear. His councillor kept track of what he drew, seeing that it might give some clues and answer many unknown questions.

He placed his pencil on the plain white wall and started to draw, birds, bugs, slices of poetry anything that came to his mind, like a collage of random ideas and dreams. This occupied his time for several hours, he would occasionally giggle at an inside joke or brood over old friends. Then a loud buzzard sounded, but Eiríkur ignored it. That sound hadn't changed in three years, and now he had become desensitised. He would sometimes wallow in thought and think what it would be like to lead a normal life? He would be done high school now and on his way to collage to find a job and live like a normal person. Something about living like a normal person tipped him off though; he disliked the idea of living for other people who disrespected him. He wondered how most people do it. Why would they get up day in and day out to go to a job they disliked? Or to try to impress friends that couldn't care less about them. How could someone be so happy with a life that is plastered over with lies and pretence?

Then one of the police officers stopped at the gate and peered into the small cage. Eiríkur felt his gaze and hoisted his head to see the tall man, tall compared to him any ways. The small man felt a shiver run down his spine and he curled up to his knees. "Some one's here to see you." The man said. Eiríkur just nodded. The bared gate then opened and Eiríkur slowly stood up, put his orange uniform on and staggered over to the police officer. The man's large hands took his small, white wrists and cuffed them behind his back. He stood there, letting the officer close the gate, "Come with me." He instructed as he led the boy down the cold gray halls, an officer was also behind him, making sure he wouldn't try anything. After walking up two flights of stairs and going around several corners they came to the meeting room. The officer stopped and pointed Eiríkur to the seat he was to sit on. The boy walked over to the worn chair with his head low. The air was always tense here, the buzzing sound of the florescent lights and the quiet people speaking to one another.

He sat down most uncomfortably, it was like a small cubical with only three walls, there was an empty chair before him, behind the thick clear plastic that was there for protection. In the plastic there were several holes below eye level and beyond that was a plain building with a clear white door. Eiríkur's eye looked up as the door was opened and a woman ushered someone in. Then his eyes grew a bit, it was Mikkel Bertram. There was a spark of hope, a glimmer of a far off dream. Maybe, he thought, Mikkel was getting him out of this place, like a beckon of light in his nightmare, he may have gotten used to this place, but that didn't mean he didn't want out. He taller man sat down in the chair and starred though the clear shield that was there to protect him. Mikkel was Eiríkur's brother's closest friend and had also played a large role in trying to prove that Eiríkur was innocent, but despite his effort he was labelled guilty and was scurried off to prison. Mikkel stiffened, but pulled a grin. "Hey Eiríkur, how are you?" He asked gently. Eiríkur felt something drop in his heart, that's what everyone asked him, and he never lied, that's why it always took a wile to answer that question. He pondered it, how did he feel at this vary moment? Tired? Wishful? Sad? Empty? Worthless? There were too many. "Eiríkur..?" Mikkel asked again. Then there eyes met before Eiríkur looked down and said "I-I'm not sure… Empty?" he almost whispered the last word, not wanting to be so weak or insane in front of the man. "What was that?" Mikkel asked for clarification. Eiríkur paused and sighed "Empty." That answer induced a silence for a while until Mikkel spoke.

"I see… Are they treating you well? You aren't hurt right?" He said, his tone got slightly protective. Eiríkur shook his head to indicate they have not. "No, my physical body hasn't been damaged." He said, clarifying that there was a difference between his physical and mental self. "That's good." Mikkel said happily. Then more awkwardness came between them. Eiríkur found himself listening to the buzzing lights when Mikkel spoke up again. "We all miss you." He said. At this Eiríkur perked up, he wasn't sure if he was lying, or that everyone genuinely was lonely without him. "After what I did?" Eiríkur murmured, not convinced that his brother's friends would forgive the person who murdered him in cold blood. "Of course… we forgive you, you weren't yourself." Mikkel said pointing to the fact that Eiríkur had gone insane. A stinging pain surged through Eiríkur's chest when those last words were spoken; he hadn't gone insane, he was perfectly normal! Besides it wasn't any of his business! Eiríkur stood up, pushing his chair slightly "I was myself! It was my fault! Whose fault is it then?! The tooth fairy?!" He exclaimed irritably and soon a guard held his shoulders firmly and said in a loud voice "I think visiting time is over." Eiríkur made the mistake in struggling in his grasp. "I killed him! I killed him! I murdered my own brother!" Eiríkur yelled as he was painfully pulled away from Mikkel and soon shut into his cell.

By the time he reached his cell he had stopped yelling and started to cry uncontrollably. He was carelessly thrown onto his thin bed that was more like a shelf. He didn't register the pain from the movement, but just curled up in a ball and wept. He would mumble harsh words over his breath and sniffle loudly. The voices form the adjacent cells were ones of cruel words and mockery, such words I'd not like to repeat. Despite the agony of his shivering body and clouded mind, he could grasp how pitiful he appeared. He hated being weak, but the way Mikkel said it, the way everyone thinks he's insane… he loathed it. He felt so alone, and that no one cared, but he didn't blame them. He was insane, he was unreachable. It wasn't always this way though, in fact he did have a friend a while back, before he came here. Her name was Xenia Vilhjalmsson. She was a small Norwegian girl with pale skin and she has blue ribbons in her light brown hair. Eiríkur and Xenia were like siblings, not lovers, but close friends. Eiríkur often thought of her, but he had no idea what she was doing with her life, he hoped that she would find peace and joy and that she would forget him. Because he wasn't good enough for her, that's what he thought anyways. She also played a role in his insanity, if it weren't for her, he would have never killed his brother.

After ten minuets or so Eiríkur had calmed his emotions, like a futile band-aid over a deep abrasion, it was only a brief fix of a much larger crisis. He sniffled and wiped the remaining tears from his face. The yelling and clatter of the adjacent cells still could be herd, but that was normal. His mind wandered and he though that the buzzard would ring soon, signalling his short amount of freedom, but it was really only transfer to another cage. In the mean time Eiríkur did nothing, his mind was rather blank as he attempted to forget, or at least not think of his brother and the incident surrounding him. At the end of a short jumble his mind seemed to rest on old fairytales and myths, the ones his brother told him. He was always enchanted by dragons, fairies... princes in shining armour and young princesses with nobility. In those stories good always prevailed over evil and in the end every one was happy and life was peaceful. But in reality Eiríkur knew that the nature of man was anything but good. But he lived to dream, that's all one dose here, lose there mind to fantasy and dream the world away, the voices of logic would soon be subdued in the ocean of madness.


	2. Alone in the Dark

A loud buzzard ran though the halls of the nosy prison and the gates keeping the prisoners in were soon opened and the people were guided like cattle to an open area that was enclosed in five meter high walls. The layout was that of a normal soccer field, excluding there were no nets, just a grass field that was riddled with dirt patches and weeds. To one end there was some exercise weights that the prisoners could use, and other then that there wasn't much, some broken equipment and some playground balls. Eiríkur didn't have much use for any of the objects, nor did he like socializing with the other prisoners, in fact he was scarred of them. After all Eiríkur was rather weak and small compared to most of them, so he kept his distance and prayed that the other people would take no interest in him. So he walked to the same corner he had hid in for three years and curled up in a ball. The fresh air was nice, but had a faint smell of gasoline and cigarette smoke. He counted the minutes until the buzzard sounded again, anticipating his solitude.

Then a voice on the speaker spoke, Eiríkur didn't pay much attention to it, but apparently it called 473110, his number. Then a tall man in uniform came to the gate which had just opened. "473110!" He called out, looking at the various numbers written on the back of the prisoner's uniforms. Then the young man huddled in the corner caught his eye. He walked up to the small, unsuspecting figure and said "473110?" The white haired boy shifted, unsure if that meant him. After a small pause in silence the man said "Young man." His tone was much sterner. Eiríkur turned his head and slowly stood up, unsure of what was happening. "Mr. Kiku wants to see you." The older man said, and then started leading the much smaller man out of the courtyard. Mr. Kiku was Eiríkur's new councillor. They saw that things were going nowhere with the older councillor, so they decided to change things up, but Eiríkur didn't know any of this.

After entering inside the building and going down several white halls that resembled ones you'd find in a hospital, the guard stopped and opened one of the plain white doors. Eiríkur hesitated, he can feel his heart speed up, as if he was going to be punished or interrogated for his unforeseen crimes. Nonetheless Eiríkur slowly walked into the plain white room, much like every other room. There was a desk and two chairs in the middle of the room, all white with some metal components. On one of the chairs sat a man, unlike most people he wasn't much taller then Eiríkur. He had light skin and a charcoal bob resting on his head, his face held an unreadable exasperation, and yet his deep brown eyes seemed to reflect kindness of sorts. Eiríkur jumped a bit when the door behind him was locked. The sitting man looked over to the freighted young man with a small smile. "Hello Eiríkur, please take a seat." He said motioning towards the chair before him. Eiríkur did as told, but slowly. He disliked the feeling of this, something was wrong with the way he smiled; he must have wanted something form him.

When Eiríkur took his seat on the plain, hard chair the man before him said "Hello, my name is Mr. Honda, I'm your new councillor." He said in a slightly joist tone. Eiríkur fidgeted, feeling increasingly uncomfortable in the enclosure. Eiríkur was socially awkward in unconventional, he often lost his temper randomly or be completely terrified, I guess you could say he suffers from anxiety. "...So, how are you?" Mr. Honda asked awkwardly. The young boy raised his eyes to meet the dull brown ones before him and his face was all alight and cheery. It reminded him of Tino Väinämöinen; he was a happy fellow and one of his brother's friends. Eiríkur then pondered that question for the second time today, but he didn't really care if some councillor got the wrong answer. "...apprehensive." He admitted, well maybe he was over stating his current emotions, but the word would suffice. Mr. Honda nodded "That's okay; I'm not going to hurt you." He said peacefully. Eiríkur eyes then gazed to the floor and his silky white hair covered his violet eyes from his councillor's view, Mr. Honda wanted to gain Eiríkur's trust, but he would let it go today.

"I…know…" Eiríkur said, but in his mind he spoke other words. He knew that his councillors never intended him to fell pain, but he always felt terrible around them, they always ended up scarring him mentally in one way or another; Mr. Honda seemed no different. Mr. Honda, being in the dark about Eiríkur's true feeling, gave a pleasant smile and said "I am glad you know that." Eiríkur gave a shy nod. "So, why are you "apprehensive", Eiríkur?" Mr. Honda said genuinely. Then the white haired boy thought again, why did he feel this way? He wasn't sure, but councillors always made him feel this way. That, or made him violent like he was with Mikkel. He felt a cold breeze brush his sweating back, His body was parched, but nonetheless he spoke. "…I don't trust you." He said quietly, but Mr. Honda heard easily. "…There is no need not to." The suited man before Eiríkur said. Despite this adherence Eiríkur thought he knew better, they all said that. Eiríkur didn't speak though; he wished that he could just go back to his cell and sleep.

"…Eiríkur?" Mr. Honda called, hoping to gain the attention of the young man before him, but he didn't respond; his eyes still were locked onto the pale, slick floor. "Can you look up Eiríkur?" Mr. Honda asked kindly. Eiríkur obliged slowly; raising his head to look upon the other man. Then once their eyes met Mr. Honda gave a light smile, trying to keep things positive. "You look far more handsome when your hair is not in your face." Eiríkur felt a jolt in his stomach; he disliked how creepy that sounded. It was a normal thing for councillors to say, but it still bothered Eiríkur. Then Eiríkur's eyes looked down as he still held his head up. "There is nothing handsome about someone who kills their own brother…" Eiríkur said plainly. Mr. Honda was taken back by such a statement, but he didn't show it. "And why do you say that?" He asked politely. "Because it's the truth." Eiríkur said. He hated the councillor's game; it was always played, the "Lets see if I can get you to confess by pretending to be you're friend' game. "And why is that?" Mr. Honda asked, trying to get the other to speak. Eiríkur remand silent, wishing to avoid the question, but Mr. Honda repeated his question; not letting the other turn away. "…Do you… have a family?" Eiríkur asked out of the blue, but he had a plain in mind. "Hmm? Yes, I have two sisters and five brothers." Mr. Honda replied, seeing that him talking about such a thing as a good sign. "…What would you do if I killed one of them?" Eiríkur asked, and yet he didn't want an answer so he quickly spoke again. "What would you do if you saw me over their body, brutalizing their being until all you could see is a pool of blood? What would you do if you had to pull me away to stop me from going on?"

Mr. Honda really wasn't quite sure what to say, he had dealt with many insane people, but never one that fells guilt, and yet has no fear in what they done at the same time. "I… I wouldn't know what to do." He admitted, still keeping his creepy air. Then Eiríkur looked him in the eye with determination; for he had won his little argument, and when you beat a councillor it really means something. "I bet you would call me "handsome"." He said triumphantly. Then Mr. Honda saw what he had done. "Probably not, but it wasn't fully you're fault." He said gently. Eiríkur felt hate bellow up inside him when his words came form his mouth. "Then why am I here?" Eiríkur asked. "You need help Eiríkur; I'm here to help you." Mr. Honda said happily. Eiríkur hated this. He wanted to take a long metal pipe and drive it up this "Mr. Honda's" ass. "I don't need your help." The young man stated, failing to accept his mental scars and pained breath. "And why do you say that Eiríkur?" The man asked in his usual tone. Eiríkur remained silent, deciding that getting mad is not the best thing to do; he knew why, there were so many reasons that his councillor would never understand. After some silence Mr. Honda asked several average questions with no answer from Eiríkur. "Is something wrong? Please answer my questions, Eiríkur." He said finally, but the other didn't respond; he just sat there with his eyes on the ground and an occasional smile across his face. Mr. Honda sighed, seeing that he wasn't going to respond he stood up and left the room through a white door. Eiríkur looked up with slight desperation, seeing that he was alone in a locked room. He wondered with a slight anxiety what was to become of him. 'Did they decide to just leave me here? Did they forget about me?' He felt his skin crawl; the other councillors never left him in a silent room in locked doors before, and it sacred him.

After a while he stood up and started pacing the room. Guilt now filled his veins, he wished he had answered his questions. "You brought this on you're self you know." he mumbled to himself while walking from one wall to another. "How as I suppose to know I would be left here?" He replied to himself. Then he stopped pacing to face the door. "They probably just forgot about me, yes... Mr. Honda hates me, but I will not die here." He said. He stared banning on the door with several cries that seemed to turn to pleads. "G-get me out of here!" He yelled, but it was no use. Then he felt warm tears run down his troubled face. He knew this was his fault, and he was going to die for it. He curled up in a futile position; with his knees up to chest and his head resting on them. The tears didn't stop coming, but he felt some form of pleasure from his disposition. He felt so small in this empty room. There was no voices, no buzzing and no screaming. Screaming... he never wanted to hear that again. Now he was full out balling and the reason was a foggy lock, but he knew this feeling for he had felt it before he murdered his brother. He swore under his uneven breath for some form of invisible relief, but it didn't work. "Brother...why?" He questioned himself. "I feel... alone." He said in a barely audible voice. He hated admitting his weaknesses, but for some reason the crying started subsiding slowly. And not soon after the door was opened and he was lead back to his cell.

He walked into his cage and a plate laid on his bed with some food. The door was loudly shut an locked behind him, causing him to look at the exiting guards. He looked back, the stale air was still filled with yelling and chatter from adjacent cells, but after what he had been through he welcomed the change. The food on the plate looked like a cat hacked up a hairball, but it had the necessary nutrition to keep him alive. He remain silent as he slowly walked up to the food. He sat on the bed and started to nibble away at the gross mush, but his taste buds were used to it. He figured that he had lost his taste a year or so ago, before then he remembered food fondly. He remembers liking liquorice and dark chocolate, which wasn't the most normal things for a young child to like, but he loved them. He forgets the taste now, just some cardboard on a paper platter. After Eiríkur ate about half of his food he rested the plate on the floor and laid back on the hard bed. He felt an odd since of emptiness. He realized just how alone he was for an instant in time and the remaining after-burn haunted him. Right now he felt that he would do anything to be with someone, anyone but his councillor. He didn't want someone that would abandon him, no he needed more then that. As these thought sprang to his mind he felt warm wells of tears threatening to spill from his weary eye, but he refused to let them go. He decided to dislodge his horrid thoughts and decided to get some sleep. Inside him though was a small fear of having the same dream again, but he had to sleep; he was just so tired. So his mind began to rest and his eyes slowly slipped onto dreams and were far from reality.

Thank you all for reading so far!

I will be introducing Hong Kong next chapter. (I hope)

Man, this story is so flipping long...

Anyways here is a little information on Mr. Hondas point of view (It isn't needed, but it better describes the story):

After Mr. Honda left the room to cease the interview he notices that Eiríkur is displaying some odd behaviour. (He is able to see Eiríkur through a one sided mirror or something like that) And son Mr. Honda sees Eiríkur break down, he is about to get him help when he hears him grumble a few words. At first he can't hear them, but then he catches "I feel... alone" After hearing this Mr. Honda gives the signal to let him leave and then goes to the head of what ever you call it and suggests that he should be given a cellmate and that it might get Eiríkur to open up more.

I can't tell you more, I don't want to give it all away XD

Just thought it was an interesting little note.


	3. Change

troubled gasp filled Eiríkur's lungs and he hastily rose form his far-from-restful sleep. He then brought his thin knees to his chest and hugged them tightly. His mind was silent for a second, but soon the swarm of memories haunted his thoughts. He released an insecure breath and his legs shivered with his whole body. He remained silent with his head pressed agents his cold, boney knees. His nimble fingers grasped his pale wrists and his toes curled up, but only for a moment. His breathing became regular as he shifted his head to reveal his eyes. He gazed on the dark room, almost pitch-black, but the large moon shown into his cage. He wiggled his toes again and gave a heartless smile. "You are truly going insane Eiríkur." He said with a light chuckle. It seems that for some reason he held some odd form of joy tonight. The adjacent cells were mostly quiet, but Eiríkur could hear snoring and the occasional rattling on the bars. His eyes met the window with a curious gaze; it was the same view he had seen in years. Then he looked at the walls, seeing that his drawings had gone. His smile diminished.

Eiríkur then picked a pencil form his pocket; it was a new and rather sharp one. His right hand hovered over the wall and he started to draw. The wall was rather dark despite the moonlight, but he was young and had good vision. He drew a human eye; it was all black with a shaded fluid coming from it; blood. Then he drew another eye next to it, about one eye apart. This eye was a mirror of the last and then he drew the eyebrows. He continued with the face, it had a small nose, black hair, a normal-shaped face and a wide smile with shark-like teeth. Then he drew the slender neck and starred sketching the shoulders. His eyes blinked slowly and a yawn cascaded from his mouth; he was tiered. But being too afraid to have that nightmare he kept drawing, and drawing.

At some point in the night Eiríkur had laid down and fell into a deep sleep, in the morning he was waken by some one yelling. His eyes fluttered open and he groaned. This was the first time had slept without haunting nightmares in the longest while. He groggily sat up to see Mr. Honda at the other side of the bars. "I'm sorry to have woken you." Mr. Honda said apologetically. Eiríkur just nodded as he stood on the cold floor. Then he silently walked to the bared gate; standing before Mr. Honda. Mr. Honda gave a reassuring smile and said: " Eiríkur..." The said man perked up at the sound of his name. "...You are going to be moved." Mr. Honda finished. Eiríkur was puzzled. He wondered where and why. The small hope of being let out rekindled in his heart; maybe they saw his innocence. "We are going to move you from isolation." Mr. Honda said, seeing Eiríkur's puzzled look. Then anxiety flew into Eiríkur's veins. He wasn't sure about other people as it was let alone living in a cage with one, also he heard of the rapes and molesting that the people that weren't in isolation went through. "Are you okay with this Eiríkur?" Mr. Honda asked. And despite Eiríkur's previous thoughts he nodded, but inside he knew that things were going to get worse. Mr. Honda nodded and the guard opened the gate.

And so Mr. Honda escorted Eiríkur though many passage ways until they reached a new part of the building. Eiríkur couldn't help but wonder how big this place actually was. The cell was the same size as Eiríkur's old cell, but other then that it was mostly different. The walls were a spring yellow with white floor and sealing. There was no windows and it had a small bathroom and a bunk-bed. Also there was a young man sleeping on the bottom bunk. "Kaoru!" Mr. Honda said raising his voice. Eiríkur didn't really pay attention to him though; his heart was beating really fast. These halls were different then what he was used to; the air was more polluted and the voices were a great deal louder. There was screaming and sounds of profanity. One old man in the cell next to the one before them was yelling horrid names at Eiríkur. Eiríkur just stared in horror of this place. He felt his body shake in fear. " Eiríkur?" Mr. Honda asked as he placed his hand on his shoulder. Eiríkur quickly turned and shoved the other man's hand off of his while taking some steps back. The man in the adjacent cell laughed at him. "Oh, the poor little whore is scared~" The man teased. Eiríkur looked at him. "Shut up, fag!" He yelled in defence. "Oh, so the whore can fight back..." Then man said, and then he laughed again. "Or so you'd like to think." Then a unfamiliar hand gripped Eiríkur. As he turned around a tall man in a uniform stood sternly. Eiríkur turned to run, but his wrist was captured by the man's large hand. Eiríkur looked up at him with terror in his lavender eye's. To be honest he had never felt such a fear in his life. The boy seriously thought that he was going to die. Or worse; be torched to death. Eiríkur's name was called in a slurry of adrenaline and fear, but Eiríkur ignored it. He struggled to remove his slim wrist from the man's iron hand. "L-let go of me!" He said as his voice cracked into a high pitch. There were just so many voices... so many sounds. His fragile being seemed to be drowning in a sea of words; all so harsh, all so loud.

"Hey," Eiríkur peered up to the relaxed voice. "Earicker." The other said. Eiríkur stopped struggling and scrunched his eyebrows together. "It's Eiríkur." He pouted to the unfamiliar man. He didn't look much older then Eiríkur, but he was very different. His skin had a nice brown tan and his short hair was a deep brown. His eyes were a deep hazel and he looked like he had several day growth on his face. Eiríkur felt a prick in his pride; he always wanted to grow a beard and the fact that he couldn't drove him insane... well you know what I mean. Then he snapped out of his face as the guard lightly pushed him inside the cage, where this other boy was. The tall man locked the door and started to walk off. Eiríkur turned around too see Mr. Honda say "Be good." Then he flashed a small smile and walked away. By this time Eiríkur was putting his face to the bars and gripping on to them with his hands. "That was the worst fight I've ever seen!" the old man said form the cell in front. "Go fuck yourself." Eiríkur said bitterly, but the man didn't take the bait and resumed to lying in the small, hard bed.

"What kind of name is Ehrickcu anyways?" The young boy behind him asked. Eiríkur turned around to pout at the boy lying on the bed. "It's Icelandic. And it's not 'Ehrickcu', it's 'Eiríkur'." Eiríkur said irritably. The boy sat up "You're Icelandic?" He asked, ignoring Eiríkur's correction. Eiríkur found his arms wrapping around his body insecurely and a nervous blush cross his face. He nodded. Eiríkur hated it when people laid all the attention on him. It was just so awkward... "How did you end up in prison?" Eiríkur remained silent for a moment, but soon spoke up. "I murdered some one." He said shyly. "Who?" The other said, as if he had no thought about it. "...I... My brother," He said shamefully. He would never admit it, but he does see how wrong it was to kill him, but if went back in time he would do it all over again. "Hmm... why?" the other asked. That's when Eiríkur became truly offended; he never told anyone that. "Your mother," Eiríkur said firmly, obviously attempting to be offensive. The other flashed a humours smile at that. "Why are you here?" Eiríkur asked; wishing to know what this person has done. "Mmm? Possession of stolen goods or whatever." The other said casually. "...What is your name again?" Eiríkur asked. "Kaoru." The boy said. There was a quiet glace they both shared for a moment but Eiríkur looked away shyly. "Sit down, Ehricku." Kaoru said. Eiríkur sighed, giving up on correcting Kaoru.

Eiríkur walked obediently to the other side if the beds. He wasn't sure why he did so, the thought only crossed his mind after he was sitting next to Kaoru, still adverting his eyes. Eiríkur's eyes gazed over a blood stain on the floor that was probably form a prisoner that had committed suicide. There was no words exchanged for a while, in this time Eiríkur agreed that this 'Kaoru' was indeed a psychopath, but at least Eiríkur didn't consider him to be a risk. "So," Kaoru said interrupting the awkward silence. The other looked into his hazel eyes, waiting for Kaoru to continue. But Kaoru just gave a stoic stare at Eiríkur; it reminded Eiríkur of his brother. "So..?" Eiríkur finally said. "Is that your natural hair colour?" Kaoru asked as he pointed to the white fluff that was Eiríkur's hair. Eiríkur, starting to feel self-conscious, brought his hands to lightly cover his frizzy hair. "Yeah," Eiríkur said defensively. Kaoru seemed to be curious about this and asked: "How? Are you like a old man?" Eiríkur's eye brows creased together at this. "No." Eiríkur said. Kaoru gave a light huff at this and fell back on the bed. "How old are you?" Kaoru asked as he stared at the bottom of the top bunk. Eiríkur exhaled; calming down a little. "…Around seventeen now…" Eiríkur said, seeing that he had lost track of the years. "How old were you when you came here?" Kaoru asked. "Fifteen." Eiríkur said. Eiríkur started feeling uncomfortable with all of these questions and fond it rather rude for him to ask such things so abruptly. "How long is your sentience?" Kaoru asked. "… …twenty one years…" Eiríkur said hesitantly. Kaoru sat up; looking at Eiríkur in a shocked fashion. "You've been in here for two years?" Kaoru asked. Eiríkur nodded. "And you still have nineteen years to go?" Eiríkur nodded again. There was another pause of silence, but Kaoru's face fell and he laid back on the bed again. "I only have six months." Kaoru said.

Then an extremely loud buzzard rang, hurting Eiríkur's ears. It seems that their cell just happened to be right across form a speaker. Kaoru moaned in protest, and Eiríkur could hear guards unlocking cells; slowly coming closer. Kaoru slowly stood up and stretched his arms with a sigh. Eiríkur turned to him. "What's going on?" He asked; for usually he only left his cell once every few days. Eiríkur then stood up as Kaoru said. "We are going outside and such." Kaoru said, not being terribly specific. Eiríkur only released a little "Oh," and then stood in the cell; waiting for their cell to be unlocked. Eiríkur could feel fear and anxiety well up in him. He hated this; he wasn't used to so much people and he yearned for the sanctuary of his cell… his old cell. The guards came and unlocked the cell, letting them go to the right. Eiríkur fallowed Kaoru closely; he felt afraid to be exposed to so many questionable people. They went down a corridor and around a corner to reach a doorway to the outside. When Eiríkur passed thought the door he took a few steps and the stopped. His eyes darted around the area. Many tall people passed him, making it hard to see, but the sky was beautiful. It was full of rain clouds and it looked as if it would rain any moment. The air smelt fresh, aside from the suspended pollution. After most of the people in orange passed him he got a look at the place. It was much like the one he was used to, but different. First of all it was larger, due to there being far more people in there. Also it seemed to be better maintained; the grass covered the entire floor, the equipment looked lightly tatter and the walls were a nice purple.

"Hey," A husky man's voice called. Eiríkur looked over to the man and sure enough he was talking to Eiríkur. It was just then that he wondered where Kaoru had gone to and if he could get out of this. "You look new here." The man said and other men around him laughed, then he realized that he was surrounded. His heart raced as he frantically thought of a way out. "What do you want?" Eiríkur said as his arms hugged his body in fear. "You came from isolation, right?" Another man asked as they all slowly walked closer. "Yes, why do you ask?" Eiríkur questioned as he stared to walk backwards to the wall; for there was no one approaching him from there. "How old are you, boy?" One man asked. "S-seventeen…" Eiríkur said, with his anxiety growing. The men laughed lightly. "Aren't you a little young to be in here?" The first man asked. "Tell me, kid, have you ever killed someone?" Another man asked. "Yes." Eiríkur answered strongly as his back met the concrete wall. Now all he could think was that it would be any time now, they would come and molest him. "How'd you do it?" One man asked. "I stabbed him… seventeen times." Eiríkur said, as his mind flash back the horrid memories; he remembered each and every time he stabbed his brother. Now they were so close and no more words were shared. The men made gestures that Eiríkur didn't understand. And as much as this scared Eiríkur, he decided to let it happen. There wasn't much a scrawny, pathetic young man could do in this state.

"Ehríkure." A familiar voice called out behind the crowd. The men looked to the Asian boy. The air seemed to be stultified as Eiríkur's heart stared so return to its normal tune. Kaoru stood sternly with his strong stoic expression showing. The men continued to stare at the young man; unknowing of what to do. "Well?" Kaoru questioned; waiting for something to happen. The men slowly walked off, occasionally looking back. Kaoru watched them walk away, and when they were a reasonable distance away he approached Eiríkur. "Are you okay?" He asked him, as he offered him his hand. Eiríkur cautiously took it and stood up straight. Then Eiríkur's eyes gazed to the earth and he whispered; "Yeah," There was a pause, and then Kaoru nodded. "You should stay with me." He said. Eiríkur nodded and then looked up to Kaoru. "They just walked off...?" Eiríkur questioned with curiosity. "When I first came here they tried to do the same thing. Since I'm skilled in martial arts I politely beat the crap out of them." Kaoru said with a smirk.  
Eiríkur smiled and gave a short nod as Kaoru led Eiríkur to a secluded corner to wait out the time; which, Eiríkur noted, was longer then he was used to.


End file.
